A Circle Reformed
by AnotherChance
Summary: COMPLETE. What happens when an old enemy from their teachers' past emerges and their bond breaks? Their only chance to defeat this dangerous tyrant is a complex spell that could cost them their lives. Summ sucks, read it
1. Chapter 1

Daja Kusibo was working a particularly hard metal pattern out of gold. It was a protection amulet for the Duke. She was just putting the delicate finishing touches on it when she heard a clatter outside of Discipline Cottage.

Deciding to ignore the disruption, she saw that she was already too late. Her pattern work had been spoiled in her moment of distraction. Sighing, decided to see what it was that had made such a ruckus outside. Standing and peering through the window of her second story room she saw a peculiar sight. A messenger in the Duke's colours was trying to pull his way out of one of Rosethorn's ivy vines, which had managed to wrap itself around his leg.

Holding back laughter, she went downstairs to fetch Rosethorn, passing Briar's room on the way. He joined her with a grin on his face and said mentally, 'What a chufflebrain…'

When they reached the Dedicate's workroom, Rosethorn was just leaving. "Briar, Daja, stay inside until I tell you. Don't go outside, or anywhere that you might hear what I say outside." She glanced over Daja and Briar with an arched eyebrow.

Watching the Dedicate walk out the door without another glance, Daja turned to Briar. "Well, that was weird. She didn't even threaten us."

"Yeah…" Briar frowned thoughtfully. He shook it off with a shrug and tossed something about trimming his shakkan over his shoulder as he walked back to his room.

That left Daja standing there in the hall, wondering what had gotten into everyone today. For Rosethorn to just dismiss them so casually was unusual, the fact that Briar didn't care even more so.

Walking back up to her room, Daja threw herself down on her bed to think. Wishing she were on the roof where she did her best thinking, she decided to tell Sandry of the unusual behaviour of her teacher and foster brother. She reached out with her mind…

"Good… now open the spell a little wider, let a little more wind in." Jamella, an old friend on Niko's and an accomplished wind-scryer, coaxed Tris. "Ok… now when you have a clear image grab it and try that spell I told you."

Tris ignored the sweat pouring down her face, the pounding headache and her aching eyes. They were all normal outcomes of windscrying. Instead, she tried to hold on to a picture of a young boy playing with a pigskin ball in the courtyard at the Corus markets. "Columen." She whispered through gritted teeth while making a crescent moon in the air that the picture occupied with her hands. The picture stabilized, and Tris became excited. This was the first time she had managed to keep an image from slipping past her… And that was when it escaped her grasp, swallowed by the thousands of blurry pictures the wind carried.

Sighing, she sat on the ground a took a swig of tea from her hip flask. Jamella, who had been seen her progress through her own windscrying, joined her and took a swig of the proffered flask. She gave Tris an encouraging grin. "That was really good. You kept the image for at least two seconds."

Tris snorted. "Two _whole_ seconds…"

Jamella gave her an encouraging pat on the back while she searched for the coloured spectacles that stopped the wind from revealing its secrets constantly. "My record is three."

Tris gave her a small smile.

About to take a sip of her tea, Lady Sandrilene fa Toren paused. Daja was calling to her. She sighed and put her cup down. _What is it Daja?_

_Rosethorn_ _and Briar, they're acting strangely. Rosethorn told us to stay inside, because she didn't want us hearing what she was saying to a visitor outside, and Briar just accepted being brushed off. No arguments, no complaints, no attempts to eavesdrop._

Rolling her eyes, Sandry replied, _Well, why don't you ask them about it. Ask Briar about it now, with Rosethorn out of the house. That way you can ask her about the conversation she had with your visitor later. Who is your visitor, anyway?_

_Some Ducal messenger._ _Hey, why don't you ask your uncle what it's about? He'd know, surely._

_Good idea, I will._ Sandry cut the line and turned back to her tea, only to find the Duke, Yesmin and Dedicate Lark staring at her. Pasco, who never found anything she did weird, continued stuffing his face with pastries.

Lark spoke up first, smirking. "Talking to one of you friends?" Sandry nodded. "You were gone an awful long time. The Duke asked you a question."

Looking quite abashed, Sandry murmured, "Sorry Uncle, what where you saying?"

The Duke just smiled. So like his grand niece to go off wandering when talking about the state of corn crops in Hajra. "I asked whether you were enjoying your tea. It's a new blend from the kitchens."

"Yes, it's lovely." She replied absent-mindedly.

Sighing, Lark put down her tea and looked directly into Sandry's eyes, demanding attention. "Alright. Who was it and what did they say?"

"It was Daja. She said that everyone at Discipline is acting weird. Rosethorn banished Daja and Briar indoors, because a messenger came and she didn't want them hearing the conversation. What's weirder is that Briar just accepted it, without even trying to eaves drop." Looking at the amused faces of the Duke and Yesmin, she continued, "Sorry, it's probably nothing, I know."

His plate finally empty, Pasco glanced at the still full platter, licked his lips and asked, "Who was the messenger from?"

Seeing the glare Yesmin threw his way about stuffing his face, Sandry managed a half smile. Turning to her uncle, she replied, her question in the form of a statement, "Daja said he was dressed in the colours of the Duke."

Everyone turned to look at the Duke, who said, "Children, Yesmin, could I have a moment in private with Dedicate Lark?"

Nodding, Sandry stood, waited until she was sure Pasco would follow her, and left the room, followed closely by the famous dancer and now teacher of dance magic.

_Daja, he wouldn't tell me._ Sandry told her friend the moment she was out the door. _He has Lark in there, telling her whatever the messenger at Discipline's telling Rosethorn._

Well, if your uncle won't tell you, then it must be important. Daja replied.

_Yes, it must be._ Sandry replied, deep in thought. 

Daja, Briar, Tris and Sandry lay on the thatched roof of Discipline Cottage, wondering at the day's events. Under normal circumstances their teacher would keep nothing from them, but today they were more secretive than they'd ever been. No matter how much Briar prodded, or Tris whined, none of their teachers would tell them anything about what was going on.

Tris had stopped caring. She had her nose stuck in a book that her wind-scrying mentor had lent her. It was more of a journal, passed down from generation to generation of wind-scryers, with each one writing helpful hints and spells. When Briar forced an opinion out of her, she snapped, "I have to finish reading this book before Jamella leaves! I only have a day! This isn't like all those other times when you interrupt me when I'll reading. I need to finish this now!"

Pulling a face that said 'what's your problem?' clearer than words ever could, Briar turned away, and continued his discussion with the Sandry and Daja. Looking from face to face, he noticed a slightly amused look on both of them. Rolling his eyes, he asked, "I suppose you thought that was funny?"

"Hmpf," was all Tris could say as she gathered her skirts and climbed down the ladder.

Rolling her eyes, Daja laughed. "Good old Tris, at least someone isn't acting weird."

Looking at the red sky of the late afternoon, Briar realised just how tired he was. He'd spent the rest of day since the Duke's message had been delivered rejuvenating the herbs at the Water Temple. Somehow those chuffle-brains had managed to let them grow stale. Yet another problem in the tide of mistakes made by the Water Temple over the past few years, since the magically bound four had come to Winding Circle.

Eyes fluttering shut, he almost fell asleep. Loud yelling stopped his drift towards unconsciousness.

"I don't want to see that stupid bleater again! He left us for dead last time we saw him, all for money! I don't care if he's dying and he wants to see me!" Rosethorn's sharp voice sounded more upset than Briar'd ever heard it.

"The council at Lightsbridge has ordered it Rosethorn! You must go to his trial, it doesn't matter that he's dying." Niko snapped.

Sitting bolt upright, Briar looked from Daja to Sandry. Sandry looked worried. "We'd better get down there."

"Yeah, Rosethorn'd never use the word bleater," Briar grinned.

Ignoring him, and the beautiful scene of the sunset before them, Daja and Sandry scurried down the ladder, with Briar close behind.

Emerging from her room when the yelling started, Tris went to go see what all the fuss was about. Seeing Niko madder than he'd ever been, she backed up. She didn't want to be a part of this fight. Noticing the least upset looking adult out of the corner of her eye, she turned and sat next to Jamella Windrider. She was the only other person alive who was able to scry the wind; there was normally only one wind-scryer per generation, but there'd been an anomaly in their generation: Tris. She and her friends had already proven that they could do unusual things. It was no surprise that they could do seemingly impossible things on occasion.

Jamella raised an eyebrow. "I think you should go back upstairs."

Tris was taken aback by this. "Why?"

"You just should. I'm sure your teachers will tell you what's going on when they're ready." Jamella said, slightly impatient.

'They'll never be ready.' Tris thought as she trudged back upstairs. 'To them we're still children.'

Briar pulled her into Daja's room before she could reach her own. "Did you find out anything?"

Staring crossly at him until he let her go. "No. I haven't, now if you don't mind I have some reading to do." She quipped, a little annoyed at being brushed off by Jamella.

Reaching her own room, she looked out the window, at the remnants of the beautiful sunset, and the stars that now dotted the sky. Lost in thought, she almost fell out the window when Jamella placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't sneak up on me!" She snapped, before she realized who it was. When she saw her windscrying mentor smirking, she looked abashed.

Her smirk turning into a wicked grin, Jamella snickered. "Payback for yesterday on the tower."

"Sorry, I didn't know it was you." Tris mumbled.

Raising an eyebrow, Jamella asked, "And if you did?"

Tris shook her head. "I wouldn't have snapped at you. You're a weather mage too. You know what it's like almost falling out a window every time someone interrupts your thoughts."

With a half smile, Jamella continued her quiet interrogation. "And you think your friends don't? Just because they aren't weather mages doesn't mean that they don't stand by windows, or on towers, when they think. It just so happens that they aren't searching the winds when they do."

Suddenly finding something interesting by her feet, her face redder than ever, Tris shrugged. "I guess I've never thought of it that way."

Jamella smiled compassionately, squeezing her shoulder. "You're still learning, give it time."

Tris looked up with a grin. "Thanks."

Unexpectedly, Niko's voice called up the stairs, "Tris, come down here and bring the others. There's something you need to know."

"About a decade ago, there was a war. You were probably too young to realise what was going on, but it wasn't just a war of ordinary men. There were powerful mages."

"Among those powerful mages stood six mages with more power than the rest combined. They called them the Demi-gods. They were so powerful they could stop entire fleets before they reached firing range, or armies marching to war. These Demi-gods never needed to talk to one another to know what the others were going to do. They simply acted. The war was won thanks to them."

Niko stood and started pacing. It was obvious that he was upset about something, perhaps about having to tell his young charges the story he was telling. "These, these Demi-gods never made mistakes. They were regarded as heroes by all but the soldiers that fought them. Some said they were perfect. Until one day, nine years ago, one of them went bad. He started using his magic for himself, and not for the innocents he had sworn to protect. He stopped operating as a part of the group, but instead did what he wanted, not paying attention to the suffering he could prevent. This particular mage had water magic. His name was Whitewater. After his moral downfall, he started calling himself Bleakwater."

Stopping to regard the four children, he noticed they were enthralled in his story. It was Sandry who spoke first. "Who were the other mages?"

Glancing from Rosethorn to Jamella, Lark and Frostpine, he asked a silent question, yes or no? They each gave him a minute nod. Taking a deep breath, he answered their question. "The other five mages were Jamella, Frostpine, Rosethorn, Lark and I." Gauging their reactions, Niko noted shock and awe.

Briar was the first to recover. "So... what does this have to do with us?"

Sandry shot him a look of alarm at his abruptness; Tris slapped him on the arm. "Let him speak."

Niko scrubbed his face with his hands. Glancing through his fingers at the other members of the long forgotten Demi-gods, begging them to step in and take up the story. Before any of them could answer, there was a sharp knocking at the door.

Rosethorn rose, and said in one of her legendary moods, "I'll get it. I'll teach this bleater not to interrupt us." As she walked quickly to the door, she summoned the ivy plants lining the hallway. The knocking became more incessant. Opening the door, she gasped and backed up quickly.

Briar rose to see what had upset his teacher so much. Seeing nothing more than a man, he supported his shaking teacher by offering an arm. Taking it in a death grip, Rosethorn tried to drag him backwards. Not understanding what was going on, he looked into his teacher's eyes. They were filled with fear; not for herself, but for him. Deciding to trust Rosethorn's judgment rather than question it, he stepped back, in sync with the dedicate.

"What is it?" Sandry asked a now white-faced Lark.

"Wh-Whitewater." She managed to get out.

At the same time, Tris looked expectantly at Niko and Jemella. "Bleakwater." Was all Niko could say.

Looking at the man that had captured her teacher's fears, Tris couldn't see anything really special about him. The only thing that was out of place was a dark aura that replaced the magic she had expected to see on him. Instead of silver, there was black. Deciding that he wasn't anything special, she gathered a lightning bolt from her now sparking hair. Holding in her fingertips, she raised an eyebrow. Pronouncing every word perfectly, she put on her best impression of Sandry when she was acting all noble. "If you don't mind, we were having a conversation. Now, if you could leave, I'd very much appreciate it."

The man's eyes darted back and forth between Tris' face and her fingertips, which by now held a sizeable bolt of lightning. Then a smile broke out on his face. "And what will you, girl, do if I don't leave? Throw that puny bolt of energy? Ha! If Jamella couldn't defeat me when I finally realised the use of magic, what chance do you have?"

Stepping up to her friend's side, Daja announced quietly, "She is not alone." Briar helped Rosethorn sit down, and moved to Tris' other side.

As Sandry moved to Daja's side, she added, "We work together."

Letting out a short bark of hysterical laughter, the man walked right up to Tris. "Do you honestly think you can succeed where your teachers failed?" His wild eyes darted from mage to mage.

Daja answered for her friend. "You were captured once before. We can capture you again."

The laughter continued. "You think I was trying to escape?! Ha ha! I let myself be captured. I had a vision of you four, the mage quartet, growing in power! Do you think I'd give up the chance at that challenge?"

Four sets of startled eyes glanced at each other. He could have been bluffing... but it wasn't likely.

Now it was Niko's turn to speak. "You could never water scry before."

Looking at the seer with contempt, he answered, "There's a lot I can do now that I couldn't do when you five wet blankets were dragging me down."

He glanced sharply at Briar. "You, thief boy, what god do you worship?"

Briar, ever defiant, snapped, "What's it to you?"

Bleakwater grinned. "It's Lakik the Trickster, isn't it? Among others. You need a little luck to live on the streets. But he isn't the best god to be praying for luck, now is he?"

Briar growled. "Is this going anywhere, or are you going to get the hell out of here while you still can?"

"Oh, this is going somewhere, believe me. But if you're so impatient... Let's just cut to the chase, shall we?" Bleakwater smiled his horrible, twisted smile. "I'm here for you four. Once I have your magic, I shall be powerful enough to cut free from my deal with Lakik the Trickster, and I will be more than powerful enough to defeat all who oppose my rise to greatness! I'll become King of Emelan!"

"Over our dead bodies." Sandry felt the support from her friends as she said these words.

His eyes glinted. "That was the plan." Bleakwater lunged for Sandry's throat with his thin, bony hands, but the group moved apart. His momentum carried him forward, and Briar grabbed a handful of his thin, black hair and pulled him to his feet.

"You expect to beat us like _that_?" He asked. Smirking, Briar let go of his handful of hair, and stepped back. "Let's take this outside, shall we?" Summoning his magic, he reached to the ivy plants growing outside on a trellis, summoning them to grow and bind the mage, to carry him outside.

Rosethorn regained her voice. "Briar, no!" But it was too late. The ivy plant shrivelled and died before their eyes.

Briar, his bond with the plant broken so suddenly and painfully, grabbed Tris' arm for support, and gasped, "What just happened?"

Rosethorn's eyes never left the mad man as she said, "He developed that technique to fight me. Plants die the moment they touch him."

Briar's face paled. "I won't try that again then."

Bleakwater smiled his awful, twisted smile. _Twisted, just like his face._ Tris thought. Hearing a smothered giggle, she looked at Daja. Sending an apology through their bond, Daja said, _Sorry, but you shouldn't have said that so loudly in your mind.   
_  
His smile quickly turned into a frown as he turned to face Daja. "What are you laughing at, Trader?"

Taking a deep breath, she called to Briar. _Here's your chance to get him outside._ Before he could answer, she turned to Bleakwater and said. "You."

Lunging for her, he fell to the ground as she darted out of the way. Sandry, Tris and Briar followed her as she moved closer to the doorway. "Well, you'll have to be faster than that." Briar taunted.

After being lured outside, Whitewater let out another hysterical bark of laughter. "You have sealed your fate now! You should never have led me out here!" Gesturing to the well, he gathered the water to hang in midair. Gesturing again, he threw the water at Tris, who was sparking uncontrollably.

When the water connected, she gasped and started shuddering uncontrollably. "T-too much power." She struggled to get out, falling to her knees.

Sandry, grabbing hold of her friend's arm, ignoring the sparks that numbed her arm, she forced Tris to meet her eyes, carefully pronounced each word. "Do you remember your experiment with the tides and the rock?" When her friend nodded, she continued. "Put the extra power into something else."

Focusing her power, Tris sent all the magic that was spilling out of her body into a nearby rock. Sighing from relief, she turned to Bleakwater. "That won't work again."

"I doesn't have to." He said, uncharacteristically quiet, "If I were you, I'd run for the hills right now."

Snorting in a rather un-ladylike manner, Sandry retorted, "And why is that?"

Smiling his crooked smile, he threw his head back and laughed maniacally, "Because there's a tidal wave headed for Summersea right now!" 

"Tris?" Briar asked, eyes never leaving Bleakwater. Bleakwater, who had once been a mage of good and decency, had claimed to have sent a tidal wave at Summersea.

"Its true." She whispered, face deathly white.

Rosethorn, Frostpine, Lark, Niko and Jamella had joined them outside. Speaking up, Niko said with a shaking voice, "You four must stop it. We'll hold off Whitewater."

"Don't call me that!" He screamed and dived at them.

"Go!" Niko ordered. "Now!"

The teens ran to the shore, planning in their minds as they went.

_Tris, you're our only hope. You have to pull the power out of the tide._ Sandry spoke to the whole group, not just the red head.

_Last time I tried that it didn't work too well. Remember the rock?_ Tris asked crossly, getting tired from the running.

_This time you can ferry the power to all of us, and we'll find something to put it into. Then, as things fill, we'll find others._ Briar suggested helpfully.

Daja, who had been silent during their journey, spoke up now. _The thread._ _The one that binds us. It's got a power of its own, it should be able to hold all that we can throw at it._

Sandry's mind-voice squealed, _Daja, that's brilliant!_

Reaching the shore, Tris quickly dropped into a comfortable position, seeking the wave. The others gathered behind, each with a hand on the string that bound them, and the other on Tris' shoulder or back.

Waiting, they felt the first trickles of power from the wave of oncoming destruction. Knowing Tris could only drain a little bit of power at such a distance, they waited patiently for her to increase her efforts. Feeling the power more or less vanish within the thread, Sandry half smiled, 'This might work,' she thought, but kept it to herself; she didn't want to distract the others.

Slowly at first, then faster, the amount of power they had to handle got larger, until finally it became painful. A fleeting thought entered Daja's mind: If it was hurting them, how much would it be hurting Tris, who had to handle all the power. She pushed the thought out of her mind as she let out a grunt of pain and felt Tris' muscles quiver beneath her hand. The wave was still coming, but it was losing power. Still, they couldn't get distracted now.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tris beat the wave back, once, twice, the string with four lumps taking it all.

And then, during the final push, the impossible happened. The string frayed, and split apart in an almighty explosion that sent each teen in different directions. The wave had been stopped, but they were no longer joined.

Waking slowly, dazed at first, she reached out to her friends, to make sure they were all okay. What she found shocked her. Sitting upright so fast that her head spun and her stomach lurched, Sandry moaned in pain. Honoured Dedicate Moonstream, and also the greatest healer in Emelan, hurried over and gently pushed her back down onto her pillow.

Struggling, Sandry tried to get up. "Dedicate, what happened to my friends! I can't reach them through our bond. Are they alright? They aren't…" Sandry stopped, turning white.

Moonstream, seeing where she was going with this, was quick to reassure the young noble. "No. They're all fine. Bleakwater did his best to finish off your teachers, but they'll be fine too. Lark and Rosethorn were the worst hurt, but they woke up a little while ago. They'll be fine. You need to relax, however. I-" Moonstream hesitated. It probably wasn't a good idea to show Sandry this so soon after waking, but it might calm her down enough to rest some more.

"I have something you should see." Moonstream got up and walked to a bench on the other side of the room, and opened a small, decorative box. "We found this when we retrieved you four from the beach. You each had a piece of it in your hands." She walked back over to the bed side, with the open box held almost reverently in her hands.

Inside were the frayed remnants of the magical string that had bound them to each other since the first year they had met, after the earthquake, in four pieces.

Sandry stared in utter disbelief and shock. She flopped back onto her pillow, feeling as weak as overcooked noodles. Staring blankly at the ceiling, she managed to croak, "How?"

Moonstream sat next to her and gently laid a hand on her arm. "As near as we can tell, you put too much power into it. Relax. You need to rest, and recover. Whitewater got away, we'll need you and your teachers at full strength to defeat him."

Sandry nodded, still troubled, but sank into a fitful sleep anyway.

The same scene replayed when each of the other foster siblings awoke. Briar swore a blue streak until Moonstream helped Rosethorn stand long enough to quiet him down. Tris wept silently as Niko held her, crooning softly like a worried father. The idea of losing her foster siblings, even if only in her mind, was more painful than anything she had ever experienced. Daja's reaction was a lot like Sandry's; she just stared into the distance as Moonstream watched on, worried for the four young mages who had been through so much in their short lives.

A week later, they could finally get out of bed. A week after that, they were released into the care of their teachers, who took them back to Discipline Cottage to recover further, in familiar surroundings.

It was a month before they had recovered fully, Tris taking the longest to recover due to her role in stopping the tidal wave.

All through it, even through their misery of being unbound, the four noticed something different about their teachers. They were all changed, somehow. Connected. None of them could put their finger on it, but they all saw it.

Sandry sat with her hands folded in her lap, with her uncle, Duke Vedris of Emelan, sitting across from her, watching her carefully. Ever since the incident she had been withdrawn and quiet. She hadn't picked up a needle and thread, and her other teachers had noticed the same apathy in her and her friends, until they had asked the Duke to intervene.

So now he sat across from her, wondering where his niece had gone and who the shadow of a mage was that sat before him.

She reached out with pale hands to take a sip from the intricately patterned tea cup when a messenger rushed into the room, drenched in sweat. Automatically, not thinking, she stood and led him to a seat, wordlessly, handing him a handkerchief and pouring him a cup of tea.

He accepted without looking, but blurted out, "We've found him. We've found the mage Whitewater."

Sandry's brows snapped together, and her once blank face was now sharp, her eyes ablaze. "Where is he?" She forced out through gritted teeth.

Duke Vedris looked at her in shock. The messenger looked from her to the Duke and back again, until the Duke nodded. "North. He's headed towards Namorn. We don't know whether he'll stop there, or keep going, but our intelligence says he'll reach there in 3 days. It seems he's been going slowly."

Sandry stood and exited the room quietly. The Duke excused the messenger and rushed to catch her. He found her in the stables, readying her horse, with her personal guards staring at their normally peaceful mistress as she cursed in street slang under her breath. "Bleating saddle…" Duke Vedris lay his hands on hers, which were trembling.

"My sweet. Calm down. We'll send others after him. You're still vulnerable."

"Uncle, it's been 6 weeks. I am fine. I just want to find this, this…"

He chuckled. "My dear, I suggest stopping before you make your guards' ears bleed. They are unaccustomed to hearing such language from the mouth of nobility, much less your own."

She turned a suitable shade of red, eyes looking from feet, to wall, to roof, to saddle, anywhere but his eyes. "I'm sorry uncle. It's just… it's so frustrating. This man has the power to conjure a tidal wave, it took all our combined strength to stop it before, and now we don't even have that!"

He looked on with pity. "Surely if you created the bond once before, then you can do it again."

She looked at him in amazement. "I can't believe none of us thought of that. But we haven't the time now uncle, we must catch up to him and stop him before we lose him again."

He looked ready to argue the necessity of her taking care of him, but he changed his mind. "I know. But I'm coming with you to tell the others. It's a nice day out, why not go for a ride?"

Duke Vedris, Lark, Rosethorn, Frostpine, Niko and Jamella were all sitting, with their charges all standing impatiently. "What are we waiting for?" Briar almost shouted. "We know where he is! Why can't we just go and capture him?"

Niko answered him, calmly. "Do you remember what he said to you when he first came here? He wants your magic. He's not running away, just biding his time. He'll be back. And when he is, we'll be ready for him."

Jamella nodded in agreement. "Last time didn't really work out too well did it? You four… you took the brunt of the damage, and that was just from stopping his spell. Imagine what would happen if you tried to take him on! He's too powerful. We need to use this time to think of a suitable plan of attack, and then use it."

Sandry spoke up, uncharacteristically nervous. "Uncle… uncle suggested something earlier. We created our bond once before. What's to stop us from doing it again? Except this time, we can make it stronger, because we'll know what we're doing."

Everyone in the room stopped talking and just stared at her. Finally Tris broke the silence. "That's the smartest idea I've heard. Ever. Why didn't we think of that earlier?"

Sandry blushed. "I don't know. But we wouldn't have any idea where to start."

Niko glanced sidewards at the other adults in the room, looking for support. "Actually… we may be able to help you there. We… uh… we developed a spell for how to do it, when we were initially fighting Bleakwater."

The quartet stared at him, and again it was Tris who spoke up first, her voice dangerously quiet. "If you knew how to do it, why didn't you tell us? You knew what we were going through, how difficult it was for us. Why!" Her voice was raised now, and her braids were very close to breaking loose. Wind whipped around her head.

Niko stood to his own defense. "It's only temporary. That's why we never told you. When we found you lying on the beach, with your string in pieces in your hands, we discussed it. We decided that you didn't need the pain of regaining your bond, only to have it torn apart once more when the spell wore off. But if it's the only way to stop Bleakwater then you might have to endure it. I'm sorry."

Sandry cast a look at Tris that silenced her retort. "But if we were able to cast the spell that bound us once before, I don't see why we can't do it again. We'll just need to synthesize a new spell. Maybe we can use yours, but enhance it to make it permanent. I don't know… but I'm sure we can do it if we try."

She looked at her foster siblings, who all nodded in agreement, then back to her teachers. "Show us. Show us the spell to bind us once more."

Sandry arched her back, stretching and yawning at the same time. They had been pouring over ancient spell books, trying to find a way to make the binding spell stronger, without any luck. They'd been at it for days, with the only sleep gained when they had used the books as pillows and drifted off by accident.

Speaking of which, Tris was currently snuggling to a copy of 'Ancient Tomes' and snoring lightly. Sandry sighed. It seemed that although her idea to respell their bond had inspired hope in them, their lack of success had brought it all crashing down.

Briar rubbed his eyes. "Okay. Let's look at this again. How did we do it the first time? I mean, we were desperate. And the magic just worked itself, through you. So how are we going to do it on purpose this time?"

Sandry scrubbed her face. "I don't know. I just grabbed your magic last time, but it was a lot more malleable. There wasn't anywhere near so much, it's a lot harder to handle now. I mean, that was the first thing we tried, and my hands still hurt."

Briar looked thoughtful. "Malleable, like string… what is it more like now?"

Sandry shrugged. "I don't know how to describe it. Kind of like…"

Briar met her eyes. Together, they both whispered, "Metal." Turning around, Briar yelled at the top of his lungs, "Daja get in here right now!"

Daja came rushing in. "What? What is it? Have you found something?"

Briar grinned. "Yep. You know how Sandry was only able to do it because we were desperate last time?"

Daja nodded impatiently. "Yeah, so?"

Briar continued. "Well what if it wasn't because we were desperate last time. What if it was because our magic was that much smaller and easier to handle. It wasn't as controlled as it is now; there were plenty of little bits to grab onto. Remember how Sandry wasn't able to do it the other day?"

Daja was getting a little more impatient now. "Yeah, so? Get on with it!"

Sandry cut in. "I couldn't do it last time because it was too hard to handle. Because it wasn't soft like string. It was hard, like metal." Looking her foster sister in the eyes, she continued. "You could do it Daja. You could fashion our magics into a wire, and bind them again."

Daja's jaw dropped and she let out an uncharacteristic squeal, awaking Tris from her slumber. "What, what is it?"

Briar was grinning from ear to ear now. "We might have a way to fix it. To fix _us_. Come on!" With that they all rushed out of the room, eager to tell their teachers.

Back in Discipline, Niko was looking thoughtful. After just having heard a very long explanation that could have been shortened from the young mages, he was thinking over all the possible problems in performing such a spell upon themselves. "The only problem I can see is that the spell may be too powerful for you. This won't be like when you've cast other spells that have gone awry. If this fails, and the spell back fires, there's a very real chance that your magics will be lost to you forever, at the very least. It could even cost you your lives."

They looked at each other. Finally, Daja spoke up. "It's a risk we have to take. If we don't, and Bleakwater wins…"

Frostpine put a hand upon his student's shoulder as she trailed off. "You're in the most danger, my dear. You'll be the one performing the spell. If it backfires you'll be the first to know."

The individual teachers regarded their charges. Finally, Rosethorn nodded, and through pursed lips, said, "This is something they have to do. We should help them in any way possible."

Briar grinned crookedly. "We'll need something to channel the magic through. Something that Daja can work with, but something that we are all familiar with."

Daja looked down at her hands thoughtfully. "The living metal on my hands. We were all connected when it was created, so we're all familiar with it. And I can fashion it into a wire while binding our magic to it. Not to mention it'll be stronger than the string was."

Sandry grinned, then looked at their founder, Niklaren Goldeye, the greatest Seer of their time and the only one in the room not entirely sold on their idea. "We have to try Niko. If we don't, the whole of Emelan might suffer. And as niece to the Duke I cannot allow that."

He finally grinned, "I know. I just don't like the idea of you kids risking your lives for our problems."

"Don't worry about it. We probably would've done it eventually anyway. Bleakwater's just forced us into early action." Sandry's eyes showed she was telling the truth, even without the Seer's magic.

He sighed. "Alright. When will we do it?" Holding up a hand to stall further suggestions, he added, "Not now. You all need a proper night's rest in beds before you try anything like that."

Tris spoke up for the first time. "Tomorrow then. We'll need strong warding circles though, so maybe we should do that now, and save our magic tomorrow."

Jamella shook her head. "There will be no need. We'll do it for you. Now, grab some dinner and off to bed with you, all of you."

Grinning from ear to ear the four young mages exited to their respective rooms, headed for a restless night's sleep.

They stood within a very powerful warding circle, their teachers on the other side, ready to offer any aid necessary should the spell go wrong.

Tris let out a nervous sigh, and sent a wobbly grin in the direction of Daja, who stood in front of them. Sandry and Briar were next to Tris, determined looks in their eyes. They had all spent the entire morning meditating, getting ready to cast the spell that would hopefully re-bind them.

Daja asked in a small voice. "Ready?"

Briar nodded, along with his other two sisters. "Yes."

Daja nodded back. "Right. Smith Gods, I hope this works." She started the incantations for binding, the one that their teachers had taught them. The living metal harvested from her hand was sitting in the palm of her unmarked hand, the fingers of her other one drawing it into a wire shape. The others took small portions of their magic and sent it to the young smith mage. Daja went to work immediately, teasing out a portion of her magic to add to theirs.

As she started twisting them into a wire, she felt a sharp discomfort in the core of her magic. Ignoring it, she continued the spell. The discomfort grew, contorting her face in pain. Her friends felt it too.

Briar let out a low hiss of pain, and Tris let out a cry and fell to her knees.

Their teachers on the outside of the ward saw what was happening and made a hard decision fast. They started working quickly to collapse the wards they had put up to stop the spell from getting out of hand, doing anything to get to their charges.

Daja saw this and panicked. "No!" There was too much magic. She had to bind it all, or her teachers, her family, would be destroyed by it. Thinking quickly she struggled to coil the wire, having it act like a warding circle for itself and the magics of the four teens. Sweat dripped down her face and she felt like her lungs had been ripped out, every breath took more and more energy to draw. Her vision grew dark as she struggled to finish the spell. Her friends had fallen beside her, and her teachers had just finished ripping down the wards that protected them. A stray piece of raw magic lashed out and struck Niko, knocking him to his knees as he shook his head to clear it.

_Almost there…_ Daja gasped as she finished the coil, and fell to her knees. Gasping for breath she fell the rest of the way to the ground, lying on her side as her eyes slowly closed, the coil of wire gripped tightly in her hands.

"My head…" Sandry rolled onto her side and clutched her head in her hands. "Ow…"

Lark jerked awake as she heard her young charge cry out. Taking Sandry's hand in her own, she gazed worriedly at the young noble as she slowly opened her eyes. "Lark? What happened… I remember we were going to try the spell… and then it just gets fuzzy."

Lark smiled in relief. "My dear, you've been unconscious with a fever for 3 days. Your fever broke late last night. We saw that you were in trouble, and we tried to get to you to help, but by the time we collapsed all the wards it was too late. You're the first one to awake. The others' are in much the same state as you; Briar and Tris' fevers broke last night as well, but Daja's still in danger. Her fever is higher than any of yours were. Moonstream is with her."

Sandry pushed herself into a sitting position. "Can I see them?" Her blue eyes filled with concern. "Please?"

Lark gave her a small smile. "When you're feeling better. But right now, get some sleep."

Sandry complied, laying down and drifting off into a restless slumber.

It had been two days since Sandry had regained consciousness, and Moonstream was getting worried about her foster sister Daja. Her fever had broken the night Sandry awoke, and yet she was still unconscious. She sent her power through the young Trader once again, trying to ascertain any injuries that may be keeping her from gaining consciousness. She could find none. She sighed, jarring Frostpine out of his fitful sleep in the chair beside his young student.

Bleary eyed, he half smiled. "How is she?"

She looked at him, seeing her fatigue reflected in his face. "There's no reason why she isn't conscious right now. Her magic is back up to full power, and there are no injuries to her body. She _should_ be awake by now." Clutching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, she staved off the impending headache. "Only time will tell I guess. There's nothing more I can do. I'm going to get some shut eye, I'll have one of the other dedicates keep an eye on her. You should get some real sleep too."

Just as she said this, Daja groaned and rolled over, her hand moving slowly to her head. She gasped as she became fully conscious, clutching her head and squeezing her eyes shut. Moonstream was at her side in an instant, rubbing her back with cool hands in an attempt to comfort her while sending out her magic to dull the pain. Her magic showed her that Daja was aching everywhere, and she winced in sympathy.

Frostpine grasped Daja's hand as he asked worriedly, "Are you alright?"

The pain had lessoned considerably thanks to Moonstream's efforts, and Daja was able to get out a nod and an 'I think so.' Before gasping for breath once again.

It was at this time that Sandry, Briar and Tris all entered the room, supported by their various teachers, and followed closely by Jamella. Sandry spoke up, though concern lit her cotton blue eyes, her voice was steady as she asked, "How are you feeling?"

Daja croaked quietly. "Alright."

Sandry, Tris and Briar had tried valiantly to hide their small smiles, but couldn't hold them in when Sandry asked once more, _How about now?_

Daja shot out of bed, as straight as a board, her eyes wide despite the pain, grinning from ear to ear. "We did it." She whispered. "We really did it."

TBC…

I have decided, in my great wisdom (ha ha! Get it? It's a joke!) That this will be a two part story, as you may be able to tell by the change in title and the sudden ending right here. So see you next story (Unless you hated this one, if so SCREW YOU!) Lol, just kidding, flame me if you want but make sure you've written something first so that you have some claim to flame. If not you're just some punk with no talent (…. Like me… :P)


	2. a circle reformed

Chapter 2:

Tris pulled on the reins of her gelding in frustration, drawing him to a stop. Glaring at the surrounding trees, she thought to herself, _Will this forest ever end? It's not even pretty… just covered in cold, cold snow…_

Niko noticed she had stopped and trotted over. "What's the matter?"

She shot him a death glare set to melt the surrounding snow, and waved an arm to encompass their surroundings. "_This._ All this snow, all this cold, and it just keeps going!"

He chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "It will end soon enough. And when we reach Dancruan, and meet with Sandry's cousin I'm sure they'll have nice, hot baths waiting for us."

Hearing a grumbled, "They'd better." He chuckled once again and rode forward, sidling up next to Sandry, he said quietly, "Lark told me about last time. You don't have to do this, you know. We'll find another way."

She gave him a sobering. "No. This is the only way. And I'm the only one that can do this. I'll be alright."

He half hugged her, which shocked her to no end. "Alright. But I still feel bad about you kids having to clean up our mess." He tweaked her nose and rode further ahead, hearing a faint "We aren't kids." Float towards him from the direction of the young noble.

Lark didn't look at him as he drew along side of her. Instead she asked, "How's she doing?"

He replied, also keeping his eyes on the road ahead, "As well as can be expected, I think. She knows what's at stake if she doesn't do this. And as the niece of the ruler of Emelan, she won't allow that."

Lark sighed. "What they've been through in their lives… I don't think I could cope."

Niko frowned thoughtfully. "They've had each other for most of it. And the rest… well, they're strong."

Lark finally looked him in the eye. "But they shouldn't have to be that strong."

Daja rode with ease into the city of Kugisko, smiling at people as they waved a greeting, enticing travelers with their wares. Sniffing she felt her mouth water. Realizing it had been morning when they had last eaten, and it was now approaching dusk, she signaled Frostpine. "Do you think we could…"

He grinned. "Get something to eat? You're reading my mind, my dear."

After they had eaten, Daja remounted, and they continued their journey, casting longing glances towards the bath houses and hotels, but understanding that they had a duty, and that involved the expedient capture of Whitewater.

They continued onwards, to Dancruan, where Sandry was greeted by her cousin, Ambros fer Landreg. They spent the night in his company, along with his family, where they explained their idea to the dry Saghad.

He looked thoughtfully into the roaring fire as he sipped a hot chocolate. "It may not be that simple, cousin. You see, Berenene has been wanting to get you here for a while now. She won't like it if you arrive at court, ask for her assistance, and leave again."

Briar stretched languidly, as Tris curled up next to the fire. Daja spoke up from her position in an arm chair by the window, where she watched the snow fall gently to the ground outside. "It's going to have to be that simple. Whitewater needs to be stopped. I'm sure the Empress will understand the necessity of the situation."

He looked exasperated. "I find that highly doubtful." He sighed. "We'll just have to wait until the meeting tomorrow. You may be right, she might offer you aid. Let us only hope. From what you've told me about this Whitewater, it sounds as though he's a real menace."

He got up with a grunt. "Well, cousin, Vimeses, Viynains I must bid you good evening."

The other's nodded, and stood as well. Sandry gave Ambros a quite kiss on the cheek. "We should think about rest as well. It's been a long day. Goodnight cousin."

They made their way to their individual rooms, and all were asleep before their heads hit their pillows.

The next morning they rode to the Imperial Palace, intent on garnering the help of Sandry's cousin, Berenene.

After being introduced by the herald, Sandry walked up to the imposing figure on the throne and gave her deepest curtsey. The gesture was repeated by her friends and her teachers. The figure waved them off impatiently. "My dear cousin, there is no need for formalities between us, we are family."

Sandry flashed her a winning smile, but in her head she muttered to her friends, _And if I hadn't used such 'formalities' she would have been offended._ Daja grinned. To her cousin she replied. "And though I wish it were possible to spend more time in your company, cousin, I am afraid I approach you as a mage in need of assistance. You see, there is a man, who we tracked into your fine lands, and he has threatened both my life and the lives of my friends. He is a mad man, and a threat to all nations. We must stop him, and we request your aid in tracking him."

Berenene waved an impatient hand. "I'm sure there is more to it than that; why not discuss it over lunch?" Without waiting for a reply, she continued. "We shall eat in the Hall of Roses." Clapping her hands twice, her entire entourage stood and walked out of a side door.

Watching in exasperation, Sandry turned to the others. "Well I guess Cousin Ambros was right, this may be harder than it looks."

Lunch had not gone as planned. Berenene had introduced them to Quennail and Ishabal Ladyhammer, two Great Mages, and attempted to distract them from their purpose. Sandry had kept at her, trying to get an agreement for aid from her cousin, and failing miserably.

Finally, towards the end of lunch, Sandry insisted. "Cousin, I really must insist. This man is a danger to everyone he is involved in, and can not be left out there."

Berenene simply laughed. "My dear Sandrilene. There are people who catch criminals, and the nobility are not them. We pay them well, they catch those that endanger us."

Sandry's reply was ice cold in inflection. "As nobles we have a duty to our subjects, dear cousin. I am simply doing my duty by trying to bring Whitewater to justice."

Berenene's eyes narrowed, and the mages at her side stiffened. _Like dogs._ Sandry thought to herself. "I'm not sure I appreciate your tone, cousin. You still want our help, don't you?"

Sandry looked sad as she replied, a tone of finality in her voice. "It's becoming apparent that we won't get the help we need here, cousin. Thank you for the lovely lunch."

As they left, Briar muttered, "Good going, getting all up on your nobility, Sandry. She said she was going to help us."

Sandry shook her head. "She had no intention of helping us. She was just trying to stall us."

Riding through the city, a sudden feeling of wrongness hit Tris, as though the air had turned oily. Briar lifted his nose and sniffed. Sandry's eyes narrowed.

Daja's horse reared, and twisted around falling to the stone pavement. Daja fell clear of the falling stallion, hitting the pavement, stunned. The others dismounted and surrounded her as Sandry shook her gently, trying to wake her. The smith mage groaned as her eyes fluttered open. Sandry took her arm and helped her to stand.

Her mouth dropped as she noticed soldiers surrounding her. Quennaill and Ishabal Ladyhammer stepped forward, and the older woman opened a scroll, citing the contents. "In the name of Her Imperial Majesty, you are hereby under arrest for disrespect to the Imperial family. Submit yourselves and you will not be harmed." Her eyes begged them to struggle.

Daja, now fully aware of her surroundings, looked to her teacher for confirmation before they both sent heat to the soldiers' weapons, making them unbearable to touch. Lark and Sandry sent their power out to their clothes and cocooned them, leaving the soldiers swearing.

Briar and Rosethorn sent balls containing multiple seeds to the feet of their captives and sent their magic out, raising vines and thorns to finish the job. Quen and Ishabal shielded themselves against all of the attacks, and took the opportunity to attack, throwing their magic at the other mages.

Sandry, Briar, Tris and Daja threw up a shield, easily deflecting the attack. Niko, Frostpine and Jamella attacked with their own power, distracting them from Lark and Rosethorn, who had pieces of cloth and were soaking them in a strong smelling liquid. Lark used her magic to throw the cloth at the two mages, covering their faces with it. Unwillingly, Quennaill and Ishabal inhaled, and quickly succumbed to the strong sleeping potion.

Frostpine turned to Daja, looking her over with a critical eye. "Are you alright, my dear?"

She nodded, and winced. "Smith gods, I have a terrible headache though."

He examined her head with his fingers, gently probing, earning a sharp hiss from Daja. Satisfied that the injury wasn't severe, he gave her a brief but tight hug.

"What made your horse rear?" Lark asked, concerned.

Daja shook her head. "I don't know. Whatever it was, it didn't feel right."

Niko pursed his lips, walking over to the area where the horse had reared, bending over to examine it closely. Straightening, he scowled. "A curse. I'd bet that either Quennail or Ishabal here are proficient at them, it was well hidden." Daja nodded, rubbing her head absently.

As Tris was about to open her mouth, a jet of water hit her, sending her to the ground with its intensity as it split the group in half, teachers on one side, students on the other. Briar darted forward and grabbed Tris' arm, dragging her out of the way. Nursing her shoulder, Tris gritted her teeth. There stood Whitewater, grinning like the mad man he is, water streaming from his hands, seemingly being created out of nothing.

Sandry turned around, looking for her horse, with its special box mounted on its back, and her heart sank. When they were separated, her horse had ended up with the teachers. Seeing the direction of her eyes, Daja went to call the box to them, magic reaching for the claspings.

She gasped, a hand moving to her chest as her magic stretched away from her. Sandry grabbed her arm and pulled her magic back towards her sister. Daja sagged as Sandry supported her, and Briar waved a vial of Wakeflower under her nose. Breathing in sharply, Daja stood straighter, and released her arms from Sandry's grip.

_We have to make a run for it. We can't call the box to us, because the unmagic will suck our magic in._ Sandry said through their mental connection.

They all nodded in affirmation. _Ready…_ Sandry said, _Now!_

They broke ranks and ran, separately, towards the box. Whitewater sent streams of water towards them, stopping them in their tracks. One stream hit Sandry dead on, forcing her into a wall with bone crushing force. She heard something snap, and then everything went eerily quiet as the water crept its way up her body and enveloped her head, creating a bubble in which she couldn't breathe. The jet stream was still hammering her body, keeping her arms pinned to her side as she struggled with her magic, trying to undo his. Panicking, she locked eyes with Daja, who was trying to make her way to her _saati_, trying to help her.

Sandry felt her throat claw for oxygen, and the instinct became too much as she opened her mouth to take a breath. Inhaling water, she coughed and spluttered within the water bubble, and was dimly aware of the world getting darker.

Whitewater watched all of this with glee, forgetting about the three other mages as he watched the young noble struggle, and eventually stop resisting, even as he kept their teachers at bay with more powerful jet streams. So distracted was he that he didn't notice Briar until it was too late. Kneeing the man in the stomach, he completed the combination with a punch to the face. Whitewater retaliated with a quick stream that knocked the plant mage aside.

Sandry collapsed to the ground, the water mage's spell broken in his lapse of concentration. She hacked and coughed, aware of nothing but the sweet sensation of oxygen filling her lungs and a sharp pain in her left arm, even as she violently expelled the water that had almost killed her. Daja made her way to her side, supporting her as she dragged the young noble to her feet.

She was joined by Tris and Briar, both nursing injuries of their own even as they supported Sandry on the other side. A vine wrapped itself around Briar's leg, gently, and he heard Rosethorn's voice in his head. _You three take Sandry to the box, it's our only hope. We'll hold him off._ Briar nodded in her direction and relayed the order to his sisters.

They staggered their way to the box which held their only chance of victory, and with a shaking hand Sandry keyed the locks, opening it. Gathering the net with her magic, fighting off the unmagic's attempt at stealing her power, she attempted to throw the net using her magic, she fell short by a long shot. Turning pleading eyes to Briar, she sent silently, _help? The net's made from cotton._ He nodded, and her sisters leant their strength. Together, they sent the net to settle gently over the top of Whitewater, and the jet streams of water stopped suddenly.

Their teachers stood, breathing heavily, and all was silent in the street, the only sound coming from Whitewater as he screamed, the unmagic drawing his magic from him in the most painful fashion. They all watched, silently, until the mage collapsed to the pavement, dead. Lark turned and hurried to Sandry's side, watching her charge as Sandry's eyes reflected the confliction within her soul.

Sandry turned to her teacher, feeling very vulnerable as she hugged her arm to her chest, asking, "I killed another man, didn't I?"

Lark shook her head. "It was the only solution, my dear. He would have kept hurting people, he never would have stopped."

To Sandry, her teacher's voice took on a tinny quality as the world spun. Dimly aware of her friends and teachers calling her name, their faces fell away from her as she fainted.

Sandry came to slowly, feeling a dull pain in her left arm. She opened her eyes. Hissing, she closed them again and lifted her right hand to clutch her head. A hand brushed her bangs from her face, and she opened her eyes once again to see Lark looking down at her, worried.

Sandry sat up quickly, and lay back down as the world spun wildly. Groaning, she felt a cup being held to her lips and drank greedily when she tasted Willowbark tea. After a moment, Lark spoke quietly. "How are you feeling?"

Sandry croaked. "Better than a minute ago. Where are we?"

Lark looked hesitant. "Berenene was most insistent that you recover in the comfort befitting an Imperial heir. We're at her palace."

Sandry looked around, both with her eyes and her magic. "I don't see any bars anywhere or any spells to keep us in…"

Lark's eyes laughed, even as her voice replied, seriously, "The order of arrest was rescinded. Apparently Quen and Ishabal acted on their own. She also said that she had nothing to do with keeping Whitewater hidden." Lark paused before continuing. "Niko found that to be a lie."

Sandry's eyes narrowed. "Why are we still here then?"

"It was thought that it would be better if we just accepted her help and left as soon as you recovered, rather than spurn her again."

Sandry nodded. "Where are the others? And how long have I been sleeping?"

Lark grinned, "We forced them to leave after the first two days. They weren't allowed to come within one hundred yards of your rooms, not without being chased out by Rosethorn. I suspect they'll be here any minute now. As for how long, four days. I was starting to get worried."

Suddenly a brown blur flew through the door, and Sandry felt herself being embraced by her sister-_saati_, Daja. She was closely followed by Briar and Tris, who piled into a group hug.

The teachers all trickled through for the next hour, until she was forced to go back to sleep by Lark.

When she was fully recovered, the group headed back to Emelan, thankful that their land was now safe once again.

The END!!!!


End file.
